


Father's Favourite

by whitetiger91



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Family Angst, Family Fluff, Family Issues, Father-Son Relationship, Favouritism, Gen, Other, Potter Family, hurt/ comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-17 21:07:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13085388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitetiger91/pseuds/whitetiger91
Summary: Perfect James: Gryffindor Prefect, Quidditch player, and his father's favourite. What more proof does Albus need that he is no longer wanted or loved when his brother is given a precious gift?





	Father's Favourite

"Stupid Scorpius, why did he have to ruin everything? They were having a great time, and then he had to go and mention Rose. Again," Albus grumbled to himself as he pushed open the front door.

He had just been at a sleepover at his best mate's when the two of them had gotten into an argument. Not being one to stay and fight, Albus had packed up his rucksack and caught the Nightbus home. Stepping into the hallway now, he threw down his bag and searched for the lightswitch, not having expected his parents to be home anyway.

"Surprise!"

Albus' heart almost leapt out of his ribcage as a chorus of voices shouted out. Clutching his chest, he peered around at the group of people who had been clustered behind the parlour doors and hidden underneath the staircase. His mother held a cake in her hands, decorated in thick, purple icing. His father, on the other hand, was holding his little sister, who held her toy wand and was waving it so red sparks flashed from the tip.

Just as quickly as they had appeared, the smiles on their faces disappeared when they realised it was him.

"Aww, it's just James," Lily said with a huff. "Don't spoil it!"

"Albus, honey, what are you doing here?" his mother asked, turning and placing the cake on the hallway table behind her. "Shouldn't you be at Scorpius'"?

Albus lifted his shoulders in a shrug, taking in the transformed entry hall. Along the doorframe of the parlour and stair bannister hung several streamers and banners, each spelling out a different version of 'congratulations' in violet, gold and scarlet ink. On the ceiling, someone had transfigured the stars that usually shone there—a present from his Aunt Hermione to remind the Potters of Hogwarts, the true meaning of home—to spell out 'James.'

"What's going on?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

His stomach sank as he looked back to his parents. They were throwing a party? Why hadn't he been told? Where was his invitation?

Giving him a smile, his mother said, "Well, we not long found out that James is going to be a Prefect! Your father thought we should throw him a little party to celebrate." Albus must've looked betrayed, for she quickly added, "And we knew you were are Scorpius', so we didn't want to ruin your night by making you come home. I'm sure you had plenty of sweets planned out."

Noticing that the other hall table, hidden a little in the parlour, was laden with all kinds of treats, Albus turned back to his mother.

"Oh, yeah, sure," he said, shrugging to show he didn't really care.

Well, so what if his brother got a party? His mother was right, he was supposed to be having just as much fun at his friend's house—it wasn't their fault that they didn't realise Scorpius was such a git. Placing a smile on his face, Albus tried to feel better. So he hadn't been invited to this family occasion; it wasn't the end of the world. Besides, he was here now, wasn't he?

"So, can I see the let—"

"Shhh, I think that's James coming now. Places everyone!" His father flicked his wand and the light was vanquished once more, plunging Albus into darkness.

He stood there listening to Lily's barely suppressed giggles and his father's breathing. He could hear someone outside the door, could see their silhouette painted against the glass. From the large head shape, he could only guess that it was indeed James, back from summer Quidditch practice. James stood outside for a moment, taking his sweet time to find his keys.

Lily chose that moment to let out a loud snort, causing his father to hurriedly murmur, " _muffliato"_ at the door.

Albus couldn't help but scowl at this. Not only was it _Lily_ , not him, that was spoiling the surprise, his father was seeming to be going a little overboard with all the details. Casting a silencing charm on the door, just to delay the surprise for another second? Really? His father never cared about the little details when it came to Albus' parties, not that he got that many anyway. Where was his surprise party for getting into Hogwarts? Where was his surprise party for placing first in the school's chess tournament?

The scowl on his face grew, and as James finally managed to unlock the door and step inside, he was the only one not to leap up and shout, "surprise!"

"It was funner the first time," Lily said as his father put her on the floor and walked over to James.

Albus watched as his father patted James on the shoulder and pulled him into a tug. His green eyes were shining and he wore the biggest smile Albus had ever seen him have. Well, apart from every time his father saw his mother, which was enough to make anyone sick.

"What's all this then?" James asked, smiling at everyone.

Albus refused to meet his gaze and turned away. Nobody seemed to mind, however, and they all continued chatting.

"Congratulations on getting Prefect, darling," his mother said, and by the sound of it, kissed James on the forehead.

"My son, a Prefect. Who'd have thought it? I'm very proud," his father added.

At this, Albus couldn't help but to turn around. Immediately, he wished he hadn't. His father was still looking at James with those weird eyes, a smile still on his face. Would he have looked at Albus that way if he became a Prefect? Did his father think he would ever become one, or was he, a Slytherin, destined to screw up even more?

Slinking into the background, Albus watched as his family cooed over his older brother. James, James, James—it was always about James.

Part of him knew he was being stupid, petty even. James _had_ done well for himself, despite all the mishaps he and Fred managed to get into at school. Really, he should be proud of his brother for managing to fool the teachers into thinking he was an angel.

Sighing, Albus waited until his father stopped patting James on the back and walked over to his brother. Pushing down any ill-feeling, he stuck out his hand and said, "Congratulations, James."

Smiling, James took his hand and shook it. His father clapped him on the back, smiling as though he was proud of him, too, though for what Albus didn't know.

It didn't matter, for in that moment, Albus was able to smile and forget his evening's troubles, as though his father's smile or brother's handshake could take away his pettiness and make him forget about Prefects, parties and Scorpius' stupid need to fall in love with his cousin. For a moment, Albus was able to believe everything would be ok.

How wrong he was.

* * *

Albus always thought school holidays were boring, but this summer really seemed to take the cake. His Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron had taken Hugo and Rose—the latter much to his pleasure, for how could Scorpius see her then?—on holidays the day before, and with his other cousins too busy to see him, there was nothing really to do.

Sighing, Albus put down the bottle of eel eyes he had been about to pour into his potion. The kit had been a present from James and Lily last year, but he had already made every 'potion' he could think of. Making yet another a puke pastile delight now just didn't seem to hold its appeal.

Stretching his arms and looking at the clock, Albus got up off his bed and headed downstairs. It was almost 5 o'clock, and though his mother wouldn't be home for another hour or so, his father was due to come out of his office at any minute. Ever since his father had missed dinner five times in one week shut in his office, his mother had made him promise to leave the room by five o'clock sharp—and if his father really knew his mother, he would keep that promise.

Albus waited outside his father's office, pacing up and down. Perhaps when he came out, they could go out and eat, or organise his father's Quidditch kit. Glancing at his watch again, he counted down the seconds until he would come out.

Sure enough, Albus soon heard the tell-tale sound of his father shutting his books and scraping back his chair. Walking towards the door, Albus turned the handle. Opening the door, he peeked inside.

There, as expected was his father, fixing up a stack of parchment on his desk and fiddling with the drawers. However, it was the person sitting in the chair opposite that caught his attention. There, with a grin on his face, was his brother.

Albus' heart began to pound as he watched his father pull something out of one of the desk drawers and turn to James. Squinting, he saw it was a faded old piece of parchment, folded into many layers.

No, it couldn't be. It just couldn't.

He watched his father hold out the parchment to his brother, a smile lighting up his own face.

"James, I couldn't be prouder of my son if I tried. I would like you to have this," his father said.

James took the parchment, staring at it with wide eyes. "Is this what I think it is?"

"The Marauders Map, yes," his father said, nodding. "It is yours now."

Feeling his eyes sting, Albus looked away from the scene. His father was giving the map to his brother? For what? Becoming a stupid Prefect? For getting into Gryffindor? For being perfect? Didn't his father know that he had wanted the map? Didn't his father care?

Tears were welling in his eyes and he furiously wiped them away with his sleeve. That map was supposed to be his! He had told his father so… Well, perhaps he should remind him.

Wiping a few more tears away, he pushed open the door.

"Do you have anything for me? You know, your other son?" he shouted, although his throat clogged up a little, making it sound more squeaky than anything.

Both his father and James turned to stare at him, eyes wide. Feeling the tears still threatening to spill, Albus folded his arms and focused his glare on the map in James' hands.

James recovered first, shaking his head and holding up the map. "Don't be so silly, Albie. It's just a map, and what would you do with it anyway? Tell on students who dare to go out after curfew? C'mon, be reasonable."

"No, I'd have fun with it," he muttered.

His father finally spoke up, stepping forward and placing a hand on his shoulder. Albus looked into his green eyes, seeing the concern in them.

"I've given the map to James, Albus, as I believe he will find good use in it, and as a present for his recent achievements," his father said. "Besides, he is the oldest. When you get to his age you will—"

"What? I will what? Finally get attention from you? Finally be treated as an equal? This has nothing to do with him being the oldest. You've always loved James more! The perfect little Gryffindor son, not a Slytherin. It doesn't matter anyway, I don't want it!" Albus shouted, shrugging off his father's hand.

Spinning on his heel, he fled from the office, taking the stairs to his room two at a time. He could hear his father yelling after him, but he blocked it out by slamming his door. Tears slipped down his cheeks, his blood feeling like it was on fire. Gritting his teeth, he pushed the potion set off his bed, the sound of the plastic vials bouncing off the floorboards only setting him off more.

Was he being unreasonable? Absolutely not. It was bad enough that his father had given the map to his brother, but to lie to his face like that and pretend it was because James was the oldest? How could he?

After kicking the plastic tubes and pouring the goo from the cauldron on the floor, Albus then sprung onto his bed. When his father saw the mess, he'd probably yell at him, punish him. In fact, his father hadn't even bothered to follow him, to check up on how he was. No, he was probably comforting James instead—his favourite son. His father didn't have to pretend anymore, not after he finally told Albus that he was.

Burying his face into his pillow, Albus allowed the tears to flow freely, imagining a life as an only child and indulging in his self-pity.

* * *

He would run away. They didn't need him anymore; his father had James, his mother had Lily. What was one more child to them? Another mouth to feed?

Albus closed his eyes, too tired for any more pity. It had been hours since his outburst, and although he felt more silly than angry now, it didn't make him any less miserable. It was even worse when there was nothing here to do; he still wasn't speaking to Scorpius and thus refused to Owl him, and if he tried to run away to one of his cousin's places, they would surely dob him in. It was a pity that his Uncle George was off visiting Charlie—at least _he_ would understand. Perhaps Albus should've gone somewhere other than his room to hide out.

A knock on the door startled him, and before he could tell them that he wasn't there, he heard the door open. Turning on his side to face the wall, he ignored whoever walked in.

From the sigh that followed, Albus guessed that it was his father. Well, his father could sigh all he wanted, it didn't mean he would talk to him. The bed near his feet sank down and Albus quickly scooted away from him.

His father sighed again but otherwise remained silent. Albus glared at a stain on his wall, determined not to speak first. It was working, too, for it was minutes before his father finally spoke again.

"You know I can wait here all night, don't you?" he said.

Albus lifted his shoulders in a shrug. His father probably could, but so could he.

"Do you want to tell me what's really going on?" his father asked.

Despite himself, Albus found his eyes begin to tear up again. Stupid, traitorous eyes. Albus narrowed his eyes at the spot, trying to keep them at bay. He couldn't seem to help it, though; as soon as his father asked, it brought back all the feelings.

Unfortunately, just as his eyes tried to leak, so did his nose. Sniffling, any intention of pretending to be ok disappeared.

"As if you'd care. I'm just your other son," he said, keeping his back to his father.

"Come now, of course, I care. I may have two sons, but I love you both equally—all three of you, actually—and I know you know that."

Albus sniffed again. His father was just saying that; he didn't really mean it. He just had to say it.

"Don't pretend; I know you like James better. He's a Gryffindor… just what you wanted," he said. Sniffling again, he turned back to face his father.

His father was looking at him, a sad look on his face. Shaking his head, his father smiled at him. "Do you remember what I told you on your first day of school? At the platform?" he asked.

Albus thought back for a moment, trying to recall that day from over three years ago. He had been standing at the platform, procrastinating from stepping onto the train. James and Fred had told him that he'd probably end up in Hufflepuff—or worse, Slytherin—and he'd believed them. He had thought that by maybe staying back with his parents for another year, that maybe he would be able to avoid being sorted into any house other than Gryffindor. Fat load of good that had done for him.

Thinking back, he also remembered that his father had noticed how scared he was. His father had held his shoulders and told him something about the bravest man he had ever known once having been in Slytherin.

It was almost enough to make him forget his troubles. Almost.

"Look, you might not think so, but I think I understand where you're coming from," his father said, still watching him. Albus looked away, but his father continued. "Don't tell me you've already forgotten about the lovely days I spent with my cousin Dudley?"

"'36? Well, last year, last year I had 37!'" Albus quoted from the stories his father told about his cousin's birthday. He couldn't help but giggle.

His father smiled at him. "That was Dudley, alright, and my aunt and uncle absolutely spoilt the big git. Believe me, I know what it is like to be left out," he said, and his smile faded a little. Locking his eyes onto Albus' own hazel eyes, his father added, "And I do apologise if I ever made you feel that way."

Albus' cheeks grew hot and he felt the urge to look away. Picking up the hem of his sheet, he began to fidget with the material. Nevertheless, he maintained eye contact and was able to see his father's smile return.

"Besides, if I really didn't love you," his father said, a knowing twinkle in his eye, "then would I be giving you this?"

From his pocket, his father took out a small package wrapped in brown paper. It expanded a little once it was in his hands and his father held it out for him.

The blush on his face deepened. With a nod from his father, Albus took the package. Carefully, he removed the brown string holding it together and unwrapped the package. Something silky was inside and he lifted it out onto his lap.

His heart beating faster again, although this time with excitement, he looked back to his father with shining eyes. "Your Invisibility Cloak?" he asked, a lump forming in his throat.

His father nodded and smiled at him. "Your Aunt Hermione, Uncle Ron and I had many adventures together under that cloak. This was going to be your present when you reached James' age, but if you promise not to tell your mother, I think you are more than mature enough to have it now."

Albus though he was going to cry all over again, especially when he realised that he had been anything but mature. Opening his mouth to apologise, his father shook his head at him.

"It's ok. I know you will use it well."

"Thank you. I will, I promise I will!" he said, and after ensuring that he would not be crushing the cloak by doing so, he leant in and hugged his father.

His father patted him on the back, and instantly, Albus knew everything was going to be alright—for real this time.

"Better than any map, isn't it?" his father said, drawing back after a minute or so. "Tell you what, how about we go and play a trick on James—for a Gryffindor, he is acting a bit too smug at the moment," his father said, winking at him.

Lifting up the cloak and placing it on his shoulders, Albus smiled. "What are we waiting for?"


End file.
